


Notes From a Hunter

by NeitherNora



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Diary/Journal, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeitherNora/pseuds/NeitherNora
Summary: Sometimes Sonnet sees messages in the notebook. Sometimes she writes back.





	1. Chapter 1

My Fellow Hunters,

At long last have I found charcoal to write. I have read your messages in this arcane notebook and after meager experimentation decided to contribute. 

I perch now in these grimy streets, boots slick with blood and worse, as a gargoyle or a crow. I look down on these beasts. For all the fur and teeth and claws, hunger is so human a trait. I expected more of this Hunt.

There is a bell. It chimes, and when that chime drifts through the wind to me I feel such yearning. I fear at times it will unmake me, draw me out of my mind. Coax me out until I am nothing but craving desire.

The Hunt must go on. May your wits and blades be sharp.

Regards,  
Sonnet


	2. Chapter 2

My Fellow Hunters,

Delving deep, I found my way to Old Yharnam. A wretched place of dregs and dust, to be sure. The smell of smoke soaked into every surface. And who should I find there but an old Workshop heretic! These Powder Keg fools and their toys are such fun prey. A raucous cacophony of explosions and shouts and spilled blood. Oh, what fun!

I've discovered one of their toys, a rifle spear. It's served me well thus far, despite its crude construction. The shock of the blast is delicious, as is the sound of blood on stone that follows it. These foul beasts stand little chance against this.

I encountered a man--Alfred? A Vileblood Hunter. A soft-palmed fool, by my estimation. Still, he proved useful as a distraction when we encountered the Cleric Beast. Perhaps I'll keep him around for future hunts if he's this good at drawing the attention of beasts.

The Hunt draws on, and I can do naught but cackle as the beasts fall to my blades. 

Regards,  
Sonnet


	3. Chapter 3

My Fellow Hunters,

Oh, delectable victory. Deep under Old Yharnam I found it: the flayed monster in the chapel. This rifle spear served me well, but not so well as that hapless fool, Alfred. We fought side by side and though his hammer struck true, he was cut down in the end by this blood-starved beast.

My throat is still raw from the noxious fumes the thing put off. Would that I could burn it out of me, but alas. I must continue on regardless. I've my eyes set back to Yharnam now, and the Cathedral Ward. These beasts will fall. I will make a river of blood from the grand staircase, and sate my blade's thirst anew.

Oh, what fun!

Regards,  
Sonnet


	4. Chapter 4

My Fellow Hunters,

I came upon a woman named Eileen who was attempting to fight a hunter. I sought to aid her, but she was cut down. I dispatched the hunter, and took Eileen's blades. They are remarkably sharp, like surgeon's tools. They coax such a lively flow of blood from their wounds. Shame about Eileen. I might have enjoyed her company on another night, but it seems her abilities were lacking in the end.

I was returning to the Cathedral Ward when I was accosted and, caught off guard, abducted. I awoke in a dingy and unlocked cell, surrounded by vagrants and worse. Crones. I cut them down but take caution, dear hunters. Beware the men with bloody sacks. They are without a doubt my most formidable foe yet...

I did make the acquaintance of a woman in the Cathedral Ward. Though she plays host to many nighttime guests, she made it quite clear that I was not among her preferred clientele (her loss). She sought a safe haven, however, and so I brought her to the chapel. She gave me her blood as reward, and I admit I am terribly curious about its taste.

There is a wood near the Cathedral, and it is festering with crones. Dazed women, old and done, armed with farmer's tools. They fell quickly. I consider my blades a mercy. To be so decrepit in mind and body...a fate worse than death, I'm certain. I faced a trio of them, covered in moss and barnacles and reeking like rotted fish. They conjured horrors and cast a glimmer vice around my person, but in the end their blood soaked into the dirt the same as any other's.

Perhaps it is time I return to the Cathedral Ward. I've heard rumors of an old hunter there who may be of use in this hunt. The night is young...

Regards,  
Sonnet


	5. Chapter 5

My Fellow Hunters,

I write these words with trembling hands, though out of fear or chill I do not know. I found a hunter in the Cathedral Ward, Henriett. She fought at my side against a great beast inside the Cathedral, but she was torn to shreds. I emerged victorious and alone, but before I had chance to revel I was struck with a vision.

I beheld two men talking, and when I awoke their words were seared in my mind. I stumbled out of the Cathedral, and continued on my way. But as I rounded a corner I encountered an impossible visage. Alfred the fool, standing calm as can be. I _saw_ him die, I saw his limbs ripped from his body by that blood-starved beast. And here he stood _healthy as a babe_.

I do not trifle with delusions, and so without delay I dispatched it. His cries of confusion turned to gurgled screams as my blades went to work. He tried to fight back but couk d only manage to clutch my shirt and bleed down my coat.

What occurred then is unclear. My mind is blurring and everything smells of blood. I stumbled through a forest, dogs nipping at my heels and blood dripping from my blades. On and on and on. Running and running. I tripped, and found myself on a different path. It wound deeper still, and I knew I had no hope of return. I saw pools beneath the ground of rancid venom. I saw lumbering giants milling about.

At long last I found an exit. A ladder to safety. I emerged somewhere familiar, near the clinic. I was tired, so tired. A woman bade me to stop and I paid her no heed and I continued. She was a surgeon, hands still slick with gore. She lashed out with a threaded cane, much like the device I found in the Workshop.

We clashed, and I was to cut her down without a thought when

there was a light

a glamour, a glimmer, a rushing slushing whip

it touched me, _struck_ me, and I knew at once this woman was no beast

When I'd cut her down at last, I collapsed upon a desk. There I found the summons. Writ to me by a queen. It summoned me to Cainhurst, promised to soothe my ragged psyche and cool the boiling blood drunkenness that held me.

I do not remember coming here. I do not remember the carriage with no driver or the horses of walking death or the overwhelming cold.

I am here now

Can this queen can truly bring me peace? My mind grows heavy and my mouth dry. My blades thirst for blood. I must sate it. I will drink deep the blood of these creatures of the castle. Oh, how I will sAvor it

regards


End file.
